The Scarlet Car
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Richard Harding Davis >> The Scarlet Car
THE SCARLET CAR
BY
RICHARD HARDING DAVIS
TO
NED STONE
CONTENTS
THE JAIL-BREAKERS
THE TRESPASSERS
THE KIDNAPPERS
THE SCARLET CAR
I
THE JAIL-BREAKERS
For a long time it had been arranged they all should go
to the Harvard and Yale game in Winthrop's car. It was
perfectly well understood. Even Peabody, who pictured himself
and Miss Forbes in the back of the car, with her brother and
Winthrop in front, condescended to approve. It was necessary
to invite Peabody because it was his great good fortune to be
engaged to Miss Forbes. Her brother Sam had been invited, not
only because he could act as chaperon for his sister, but
because since they were at St. Paul's, Winthrop and he, either
as participants or spectators, had never missed going together
to the Yale-Harvard game. And Beatrice Forbes herself had
been invited because she was herself.
When at nine o'clock on the morning of the game, Winthrop
stopped the car in front of her door, he was in love with all
the world. In the November air there was a sting like
frost-bitten cider, in the sky there was a brilliant,
beautiful sun, in the wind was the tingling touch of three
ice-chilled rivers. And in the big house facing Central Park,
outside of which his prancing steed of brass and scarlet
chugged and protested and trembled with impatience, was the
most wonderful girl in all the world. It was true she was
engaged to be married, and not to him. But she was not yet
married. And to-day it would be his privilege to carry her
through the State of New York and the State of Connecticut,
and he would snatch glimpses of her profile rising from the
rough fur collar, of her wind-blown hair, of the long, lovely
lashes under the gray veil.
"`Shall be together, breathe and ride, so, one day more am I
deified;'" whispered the young man in the Scarlet Car; "`who
knows but the world may end to-night?'"
As he waited at the curb, other great touring-cars, of every
speed and shape, in the mad race for the Boston Post Road, and
the town of New Haven, swept up Fifth Avenue. Some rolled and
puffed like tugboats in a heavy seaway, others glided by
noiseless and proud as private yachts. But each flew the
colors of blue or crimson.
Winthrop's car, because her brother had gone to one college,
and he had played right end for the other, was draped
impartially. And so every other car mocked or cheered it, and
in one a bare-headed youth stood up, and shouted to his
fellows: "Look! there's Billy Winthrop! Three times three
for old Billy Winthrop!" And they lashed the air with flags,
and sent his name echoing over Central Park.
Winthrop grinned in embarrassment, and waved his hand. A
bicycle cop, and Fred, the chauffeur, were equally impressed.
"Was they the Harvoids, sir?" asked Fred.
"They was," said Winthrop.
Her brother Sam came down the steps carrying sweaters and
steamer-rugs. But he wore no holiday countenance.
"What do you think?" he demanded indignantly. "Ernest
Peabody's inside making trouble. His sister has a Pullman on
one of the special trains, and he wants Beatrice to go with
her."
In spite of his furs, the young man in the car turned quite
cold. "Not with us?" he gasped.
Miss Forbes appeared at the house door, followed by Ernest
Peabody. He wore an expression of disturbed dignity; she one
of distressed amusement. That she also wore her automobile
coat caused the heart of Winthrop to leap hopefully.
"Winthrop," said Peabody, "I am in rather an embarrassing
position. My sister, Mrs. Taylor Holbrooke"--he spoke the
name as though he were announcing it at the door of a
drawing-room--"desires Miss Forbes to go with her. She feels
accidents are apt to occur with motor cars--and there are no
other ladies in your party--and the crowds----"
Winthrop carefully avoided looking at Miss Forbes.
"I should be very sorry," he murmured.
"Ernest!" said Miss Forbes, "I explained it was impossible for
me to go with your sister. We would be extremely rude to Mr.
Winthrop. How do you wish us to sit?" she asked.
She mounted to the rear seat, and made room opposite her for
Peabody.
"Do I understand, Beatrice," began Peabody in a tone that
instantly made every one extremely uncomfortable, "that I am
to tell my sister you are not coming?"
"Ernest!" begged Miss Forbes.
Winthrop bent hastily over the oil valves. He read the
speedometer, which was, as usual, out of order, with
fascinated interest.
"Ernest," pleaded Miss Forbes,
"Mr. Winthrop and Sam planned this trip for us a long time
ago--to give us a little pleasure----"
"Then," said Peabody in a hollow voice, "you have decided?"
"Ernest," cried Miss Forbes, "don't look at me as though you
meant to hurl the curse of Rome. I have. Jump in. Please!"
"I will bid you good-by," said Peabody; "I have only just time
to catch our train."
Miss Forbes rose and moved to the door of the car.
"I had better not go with any one," she said in a low voice.
"You will go with me," commanded her brother. "Come on,
Ernest."
"Thank you, no," replied Peabody. "I have promised my sister."
"All right, then," exclaimed Sam briskly, "see you at the game.
Section H. Don't forget. Let her out, Billy."
With a troubled countenance Winthrop bent forward and clasped
the clutch.
"Better come, Peabody," he said.
"I thank you, no," repeated Peabody. "I must go with my
sister."
As the car glided forward Brother Sam sighed heavily.
"My! but he's got a mean disposition," he said. "He has quite
spoiled MY day."
He chuckled wickedly, but Winthrop pretended not to hear, and
his sister maintained an expression of utter dejection.
But to maintain an expression of utter dejection is very
difficult when the sun is shining, when you are flying at the
rate of forty miles an hour, and when in the cars you pass
foolish youths wave Yale flags at you, and take advantage of
the day to cry: "Three cheers for the girl in the blue hat!"
And to entirely remove the last trace of the gloom that
Peabody had forced upon them, it was necessary only for a tire
to burst. Of course for this effort, the tire chose the
coldest and most fiercely windswept portion of the Pelham
Road, where from the broad waters of the Sound pneumonia and
the grip raced rampant, and where to the touch a steel wrench
was not to be distinguished from a piece of ice. But before
the wheels had ceased to complain, Winthrop and Fred were out
of their fur coats, down on their knees, and jacking up the
axle.
"On an expedition of this sort," said Brother Sam, "whatever
happens, take it as a joke. Fortunately," he explained, "I
don't understand fixing inner tubes, so I will get out and
smoke. I have noticed that when a car breaks down, there is
always one man who paces up and down the road and smokes. His
hope is to fool passing cars into thinking that the people in
his car stopped to admire the view."
Recognizing the annual football match as intended solely to
replenish the town coffers, the thrifty townsfolk of Rye, with
bicycles and red flags, were, as usual, and regardless of the
speed at which it moved, levying tribute on every second car
that entered their hospitable boundaries. But before the
Scarlet Car reached Rye, small boys of the town, possessed of
a sporting spirit, or of an inherited instinct for graft, were
waiting to give a noisy notice of the ambush. And so,
fore-warned, the Scarlet Car crawled up the main street of Rye
as demurely as a baby-carriage, and then, having safely
reached a point directly in front of the police station, with
a loud and ostentatious report, blew up another tire.
"Well," said Sam crossly, "they can't arrest US for
speeding."
"Whatever happens," said his sister, "take it as a joke."
Two miles outside of Stamford, Brother Sam burst into open
mutiny.
"Every car in the United States has passed us," he declared.
"We won't get there, at this rate, till the end of the first
half. Hit her up, can't you, Billy?"
"She seems to have an illness," said Winthrop unhappily. "I
think I'd save time if I stopped now and fixed her."
Shamefacedly Fred and he hid themselves under the body of the
car, and a sound of hammering and stentorian breathing
followed. Of them all that was visible was four feet beating
a tattoo on the road. Miss Forbes got out Winthrop's camera,
and took a snap-shot of the scene.
"I will call it," she said, "The Idle Rich."
Brother Sam gazed morosely in the direction of New Haven.
They had halted within fifty yards of the railroad tracks, and
as each special train, loaded with happy enthusiasts, raced
past them he groaned.
"The only one of us that showed any common sense was Ernest,"
he declared, "and you turned him down. I am going to take a
trolley to Stamford, and the first train to New Haven."
"You are not," said his sister; "I will not desert Mr.
Winthrop, and you cannot desert me."
Brother Sam sighed, and seated himself on a rock.
"Do you think, Billy," he asked, "you can get us to Cambridge
in time for next year's game?"
The car limped into Stamford, and while it went into drydock
at the garage, Brother Sam fled to the railroad station, where
he learned that for the next two hours no train that
recognized New Haven spoke to Stamford.
"That being so," said Winthrop, "while we are waiting for the
car, we had better get a quick lunch now, and then push on."
"Push," exclaimed Brother Sam darkly, "is what we are likely
to do."
After behaving with perfect propriety for half an hour, just
outside of Bridgeport the Scarlet Car came to a slow and
sullen stop, and once more the owner and the chauffeur hid
their shame beneath it, and attacked its vitals. Twenty
minutes later, while they still were at work, there approached
from Bridgeport a young man in a buggy. When he saw the mass
of college colors on the Scarlet Car, he pulled his horse down
to a walk, and as he passed raised his hat.
"At the end of the first half," he said, "the score was a
tie."
"Don't mention it," said Brother Sam.
"Now," he cried, "we've got to turn back, and make for New
York. If we start quick, we may get there ahead of the last
car to leave New Haven."
"I am going to New Haven, and in this car," declared his
sister. "I must go--to meet Ernest."
"If Ernest has as much sense as he showed this morning,"
returned her affectionate brother, "Ernest will go to his
Pullman and stay there. As I told you, the only sure way to
get anywhere is by railroad train."
When they passed through Bridgeport it was so late that the
electric lights of Fairview Avenue were just beginning to
sputter and glow in the twilight, and as they came along the
shore road into New Haven, the first car out of New Haven in
the race back to New York leaped at them with siren shrieks of
warning, and dancing, dazzling eyes. It passed like a thing
driven by the Furies; and before the Scarlet Car could swing
back into what had been an empty road, in swift pursuit of the
first came many more cars, with blinding searchlights, with a
roar of throbbing, thrashing engines, flying pebbles, and
whirling wheels. And behind these, stretching for a twisted
mile, came hundreds of others; until the road was aflame with
flashing Will-o'-the-wisps, dancing fireballs, and long,
shifting shafts of light.
Miss Forbes sat in front, beside Winthrop, and it pleased her
to imagine, as they bent forward, peering into the night, that
together they were facing so many fiery dragons, speeding to
give them battle, to grind them under their wheels. She felt
the elation of great speed, of imminent danger. Her blood
tingled with the air from the wind-swept harbor, with the rush
of the great engines, as by a handbreadth they plunged past
her. She knew they were driven by men and half-grown boys,
joyous with victory, piqued by defeat, reckless by one touch
too much of liquor, and that the young man at her side was
driving, not only for himself, but for them.
Each fraction of a second a dazzling light blinded him, and he
swerved to let the monster, with a hoarse, bellowing roar,
pass by, and then again swept his car into the road. And each
time for greater confidence she glanced up into his face.
Throughout the mishaps of the day he had been deeply concerned
for her comfort, sorry for her disappointment, under Brother
Sam's indignant ironies patient, and at all times gentle and
considerate. Now, in the light from the onrushing cars, she
noted his alert, laughing eyes, the broad shoulders bent
across the wheel, the lips smiling with excitement and in the
joy of controlling, with a turn of the wrist, a power equal to
sixty galloping horses. She found in his face much comfort.
And in the fact that for the moment her safety lay in his
hands, a sense of pleasure. That this was her feeling puzzled
and disturbed her, for to Ernest Peabody it seemed, in some
way, disloyal. And yet there it was. Of a certainty, there
was the secret pleasure in the thought that if they escaped
unhurt from the trap in which they found themselves, it would
be due to him. To herself she argued that if the chauffeur
were driving, her feeling would be the same, that it was the
nerve, the skill, and the coolness, not the man, that moved
her admiration. But in her heart she knew it would not be the
same.
At West Haven Green Winthrop turned out of the track of the
racing monsters into a quiet street leading to the railroad
station, and with a half-sigh, half-laugh, leaned back
comfortably.
"Those lights coming up suddenly make it hard to see," he
said.
"Hard to breathe," snorted Sam; "since that first car missed
us, I haven't drawn an honest breath. I held on so tight that
I squeezed the hair out of the cushions."
When they reached the railroad station, and Sam had finally
fought his way to the station master, that half-crazed
official informed him he had missed the departure of Mrs.
Taylor Holbrooke's car by just ten minutes.
Brother Sam reported this state of affairs to his companions.
"God knows we asked for the fish first," he said; "so now
we've done our duty by Ernest, who has shamefully deserted us,
and we can get something to eat, and go home at our leisure.
As I have always told you, the only way to travel
independently is in a touring-car."
At the New Haven House they bought three waiters, body and
soul, and, in spite of the fact that in the very next room the
team was breaking training, obtained an excellent but chaotic
dinner; and by eight they were on their way back to the big
city.
The night was grandly beautiful. The waters of the Sound
flashed in the light of a cold, clear moon, which showed them,
like pictures in silver print, the sleeping villages through
which they passed, the ancient elms, the low-roofed cottages,
the town hall facing the common. The post road was again
empty, and the car moved as steadily as a watch.
"Just because it knows we don't care now when we get there,"
said Brother Sam, "you couldn't make it break down with an
axe."
From the rear, where he sat with Fred, he announced he was
going to sleep, and asked that he be not awakened until the
car had crossed the State line between Connecticut and New
York. Winthrop doubted if he knew the State line of New York.
"It is where the advertisements for Besse Baker's twenty-seven
stores cease," said Sam drowsily, "and the billposters of
Ethel Barrymore begin."
In the front of the car the two young people spoke only at
intervals, but Winthrop had never been so widely alert, so
keenly happy, never before so conscious of her presence.
And it seemed as they glided through the mysterious moonlit
world of silent villages, shadowy woods, and wind-swept bays
and inlets, from which, as the car rattled over the planks of
the bridges, the wild duck rose in noisy circles, they alone
were awake and living.
The silence had lasted so long that it was as eloquent as
words. The young man turned his eyes timorously, and sought
those of the girl. What he felt was so strong in him that it
seemed incredible she should be ignorant of it. His eyes
searched the gray veil. In his voice there was both challenge
and pleading.
"`Shall be together,'" he quoted, "`breathe and ride. So, one
day more am I deified; who knows but the world may end
to-night?'"
The moonlight showed the girl's eyes shining through the veil,
and regarding him steadily.
"If you don't stop this car quick," she said, "the world
WILL end for all of us."
He shot a look ahead, and so suddenly threw on the brake that
Sam and the chauffeur tumbled awake. Across the road
stretched the great bulk of a touring-car, its lamps burning
dully in the brilliance of the moon. Around it, for greater
warmth, a half-dozen figures stamped upon the frozen ground,
and beat themselves with their arms. Sam and the chauffeur
vaulted into the road, and went toward them.
"It's what you say, and the way you say it," the girl
explained. She seemed to be continuing an argument. "It
makes it so very difficult for us to play together."
The young man clasped the wheel as though the force he were
holding in check were much greater than sixty horse-power.
"You are not married yet, are you?" he demanded.
The girl moved her head.
"And when you are married, there will probably be an altar
from which you will turn to walk back up the aisle?"
"Well?" said the girl.
"Well," he answered explosively, "until you turn away from that
altar, I do not recognize the right of any man to keep me
quiet, or your right either. Why should I be held by your
engagement? I was not consulted about it. I did not give my
consent, did I? I tell you, you are the only woman in the
world I will ever marry, and if you think I am going to keep
silent and watch some one else carry you off without making a
fight for you, you don't know me."
"If you go on," said the girl, "it will mean that I shall not
see you again."
"Then I will write letters to you."
"I will not read them," said the girl. The young man laughed
defiantly.
"Oh, yes, you will read them!" He pounded his gauntleted fist
on the rim of the wheel. "You mayn't answer them, but if I
can write the way I feel, I will bet you'll read them."
His voice changed suddenly, and he began to plead. It was as
though she were some masculine giant bullying a small boy.
"You are not fair to me," he protested. "I do not ask you to
be kind, I ask you to be fair. I am fighting for what means
more to me than anything in this world, and you won't even
listen. Why should I recognize any other men! All I
recognize is that _I_ am the man who loves you, that `I am the
man at your feet.' That is all I know, that I love you."
The girl moved as though with the cold, and turned her head
from him.
"I love you," repeated the young man.
The girl breathed like one who has been swimming under water,
but, when she spoke, her voice was calm and contained.
"Please!" she begged, "don't you see how unfair it is. I can't
go away; I HAVE to listen."
The young man pulled himself upright, and pressed his lips
together.
"I beg your pardon," he whispered.
There was for some time an unhappy silence, and then Winthrop
added bitterly: "Methinks the punishment exceeds the
offence."
"Do you think you make it easy for ME?" returned the girl.
She considered it most ungenerous of him to sit staring into
the moonlight, looking so miserable that it made her heart
ache to comfort him, and so extremely handsome that to do so
was quite impossible. She would have liked to reach out her
hand and lay it on his arm, and tell him she was sorry, but
she could not. He should not have looked so unnecessarily
handsome.
Sam came running toward them with five grizzly bears, who
balanced themselves apparently with some slight effort upon
their hind legs. The grizzly bears were properly presented
as: "Tommy Todd, of my class, and some more like him. And,"
continued Sam, "I am going to quit you two and go with them.
Tom's car broke down, but Fred fixed it, and both our cars can
travel together. Sort of convoy," he explained.
His sister signalled eagerly, but with equal eagerness he
retreated from her.
"Believe me," he assured her soothingly, "I am just as good a
chaperon fifty yards behind you, and wide awake, as I am in
the same car and fast asleep. And, besides, I want to hear
about the game. And, what's more, two cars are much safer
than one. Suppose you two break down in a lonely place?
We'll be right behind you to pick you up. You will keep
Winthrop's car in sight, won't you, Tommy?" he said.
The grizzly bear called Tommy, who had been examining the
Scarlet Car, answered doubtfully that the only way he could
keep it in sight was by tying a rope to it.
"That's all right, then," said Sam briskly, "Winthrop will go
slow."
So the Scarlet Car shot forward with sometimes the second car
so far in the rear that they could only faintly distinguish
the horn begging them to wait, and again it would follow so
close upon their wheels that they heard the five grizzly bears
chanting beseechingly
Oh, bring this wagon home, John,
It will not hold us a-all.
For some time there was silence in the Scarlet Car, and then
Winthrop broke it by laughing.
"First, I lose Peabody," he explained, "then I lose Sam, and
now, after I throw Fred overboard, I am going to drive you
into Stamford, where they do not ask runaway couples for a
license, and marry you."
The girl smiled comfortably. In that mood she was not afraid
of him.
She lifted her face, and stretched out her arms as though she
were drinking in the moonlight.
"It has been such a good day," she said simply, "and I am
really so very happy."
"I shall be equally frank," said Winthrop. "So am I."
For two hours they had been on the road, and were just
entering Fairport. For some long time the voices of the
pursuing grizzlies had been lost in the far distance.
"The road's up," said Miss Forbes.
She pointed ahead to two red lanterns.
"It was all right this morning," exclaimed Winthrop.
The car was pulled down to eight miles an hour, and, trembling
and snorting at the indignity, nosed up to the red lanterns.
They showed in a ruddy glow the legs of two men.
"You gotta stop!" commanded a voice.
"Why?" asked Winthrop.
The voice became embodied in the person of a tall man, with a
long overcoat and a drooping mustache.
"'Cause I tell you to!" snapped the tall man.
Winthrop threw a quick glance to the rear. In that direction
for a mile the road lay straight away. He could see its
entire length, and it was empty. In thinking of nothing but
Miss Forbes, he had forgotten the chaperon. He was impressed
with the fact that the immediate presence of a chaperon was
desirable. Directly in front of the car, blocking its
advance, were two barrels, with a two-inch plank sagging
heavily between them. Beyond that the main street of Fairport
lay steeped in slumber and moonlight.
"I am a selectman," said the one with the lantern. "You been
exceedin' our speed limit."
The chauffeur gave a gasp that might have been construed to
mean that the charge amazed and shocked him.
"That is not possible," Winthrop answered. "I have been going
very slow--on purpose--to allow a disabled car to keep up with
me."
The selectman looked down the road.
"It ain't kep' up with you," he said pointedly.
"It has until the last few minutes."
"It's the last few minutes we're talking about," returned the
man who had not spoken. He put his foot on the step of the
car.
"What are you doing?" asked Winthrop.
"I am going to take you to Judge Allen's. I am chief of
police. You are under arrest."
Before Winthrop rose moving pictures of Miss Forbes appearing
in a dirty police station before an officious Dogberry, and,
as he and his car were well known along the Post road,
appearing the next morning in the New York papers. "William
Winthrop," he saw the printed words, "son of Endicott
Winthrop, was arrested here this evening, with a young woman
who refused to give her name, but who was recognized as Miss
Beatrice Forbes, whose engagement to Ernest Peabody, the
Reform candidate on the Independent ticket----"
And, of course, Peabody would blame her.
"If I have exceeded your speed limit," he said politely, "I
shall be delighted to pay the fine. How much is it?"
"Judge Allen'll tell you what the fine is," said the selectman
gruffly. "And he may want bail."
"Bail?" demanded Winthrop. "Do you mean to tell me he will
detain us here?"
"He will, if he wants to," answered the chief of police
combatively.
For an instant Winthrop sat gazing gloomily ahead, overcome
apparently by the enormity of his offence. He was calculating
whether, if he rammed the two-inch plank, it would hit the car
or Miss Forbes. He decided swiftly it would hit his new
two-hundred-dollar lamps. As swiftly he decided the new lamps
must go. But he had read of guardians of the public safety so
regardless of private safety as to try to puncture runaway
tires with pistol bullets. He had no intention of subjecting
Miss Forbes to a fusillade.